


No Right

by justyouraveragetrans



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Campaign Skyjacks
Genre: Angst, Gable can have a little a comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, boy that shit on Il Sangue Dio was fucked up huh?, mentions of violence/torture, post-Nordia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25974304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justyouraveragetrans/pseuds/justyouraveragetrans
Summary: The Uhuru fends off the Mariner, but dealing with everything else that happened in Nordia is not so easy. Gable struggles with the aftermath of everything, especially the decision of one changeling quartermaster. Margaret tries to help.
Relationships: Gable & Margaret
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	No Right

The Uhuru flew away from Nordia the day following the Mariner's attack. They had done the impossible and staved off a direct assualt from the Mariner, another impossible deed on Orimar Vale's rather impressive resume. Even with this victory, most of Lower Nordia found itself flooded and damaged beyond repair, and the Uhuru found itself shepherding more than a few people to better prospects elsewhere, among them, Margaret. Her passage was part of Travis's payment, Gable guessed because the man himself had not spoken a word to them since storming aboard the day before. 

Gable, ever focused after a battle, sat at the helm that whole first night, and when they saw a familiar small white shape move across the deck, they knew that Travis's ritual had failed. And given that Travis showed no willingness to talk earlier, and still none the next morning, it also became apparent why. 

The mood of the Uhuru was volatile, confused. It was clear that most of the crew wanted to celebrate, revel in the joy of saving a town and further cementing their legend. But the tension and somber attitudes of the captain's council were easily felt by all aboard, and tinted any hints of celebration sourly. Even Jonnit steered clear of the quartermaster and helmsperson that first day in the air, after his attempts to talk with them failed. 

Gable was stewing in the hold with the birds when Margaret found them. A few minutes passed and she went unnoticed as Gable methodically brushed Metatron down, so Margaret cleared her throat. Gable looked at her abruptly and sighed. "Oh. Margaret. What do you want?"

"Now that hardly seems like a warm way to greet a lady, especially one who only wants a conversation." Margaret moved closer and leaned on the hull next to Metatron's stable. 

Gable turned back and began deliberately brushing again. "Well I don't see what there is to talk about." 

"I just noticed that things seem a little...tense, which seems unusual after such a historic and quite frankly awe inspiring victory. Especially between you and Travis. Perhaps you two should talk?" 

Gable replied harshly, voice laced with sarcasm " Well you seem to always know just what to say to him so I don't know why I'd bother." 

Margaret straightened. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean but..."

Gable dropped the brush and turned towards her, "You told him I couldn't die. You told me that it wouldn't matter for the spell so I didn't say anything but now..." they breathed loudly and raised their hands as if too gesture but stopped short, and their eyes settled on Margaret. "You had no right" 

Margaret held their stare and crossed her arms. "I only told him the truth, that I could not help you. He deserved to make an informed decision about his future."

"His fu– his future? Now his future is to continue this horrible, destructive, bitter existence until the end of time!" 

"It was his decision to make," Margaret replied calmly. 

"No!" Now Gable was nearly yelling. The birds startled. Gable walked quickly out of the pen. "You took that choice away from him! He told you he only wanted to die if I could too, so by telling him, you made the choice for him!" Now they were 5 feet from Margaret, furious. Standing at their full height, it was hard for Margaret not to feel afraid, in the presence of such anger. 

Gabel stilled for a moment, and spoke more quietly. "He wants to die. He wants to be able to die. To see his Margaret again, and even if he can't, to rest. But he won't. Because of me. Do you have any idea what it is like, for someone to put that on you?" 

Margaret softened and took a step forward, "Gable..."

They ran their hand through their hair. "He can't just be miserable for eternity because I can't...because I can't go with him. I don't want that."

She took another step forward, hand raised placatingly. 

Gable looked at Margaret full of accusation. "He's going to have to watch Jonnit die." She stopped. "Did you think about that?" 

"No," Margaret replied evenly, "But I'm sure he did. And he still chose not to let you do that alone." Gable's eyes flared, but she continued. "And besides, just because it is not in my power doesn't mean that it is not in anyone's. You two may both be able to join the ranks of us mortals yet."

Gable paused, turned away, and then began to shake slightly. At first Margaret worried it was in anger, then she heard a chuckle and soon Gable's whole body shook with near hysterical laughter. It was a good 15 seconds before the worst of it passed and Gable spoke, slightly breathless, "I decapitated someone like me and watched them blink back. Two days ago, I found a piece of skin that was still alive, Margaret," they turned back and looked off with distant, watery, eyes. "I destroyed the piece that I found but the rest of them is still alive, in unimaginable agony. I felt them." Gable whispered. "They could still feel everything." 

After a moment they met Margaret's gaze. "So no. Really. No matter what happens to me. There is no way out." Gable let out a shaky breath and suddenly seemed much smaller. "Truly. Really, truly, I can't... he...I don't... I don't want him to suffer through this with me." Gable set their jaw and nodded once, as if making up their mind and tried to steady themself.

Margaret was extremely skilled at reading people, but even if she wasn't she could see that right now Gable was just about to fall apart. This, at least, she was familiar with. She approached slowly, nonthreatening, and said quietly "Can I give you a hug Gable?" Gable gave the slightest of nods and Margaret wrapped her arms around them, and they started to cry. Gasping, horrible, ugly sobs and they cling onto Margaret as if she were the only driftwood in a vast ocean, desperately as only one who has drowned before can. 

Margaret could tell their knees were about to buckle and just in time lowered the both of them onto a pile of hay to their left, whispering soft soothing nothings into Gables ear now that she could reach it. Gable babbled, near incoherently, about the cold and a cell and ice. About how they tried to kill them but never could. About the terrifying possibility of being broken into pieces and still knowing and feeling it all. Margaret let them. She ran her fingers through their hair and her other hand rubbed circles on their back. She accidentally hit one of two raised scars on their shoulder blades and Gable stilled immediately. They looked at Margaret, eyes red and face splotchy, but spoke with only a small falter in their voice, "They cut them off Margaret, and I can't even fully remember why. I think I lied." Gable looked thoughtful for a moment then said, "I am a broken thing. But I know now there is nothing in the world that can fix me." 

Margaret cupped Gable's face in her hands, looked them in the eyes, and said, "Maybe not in the way you think. But I believe there is much that can be done to help you," Margaret kissed them briefly, one on each cheek, and said with a small smile, "if you wanted. And I would have to be properly compensated of course." 

"Maybe," Gable said after a bit, "I'll think about it." Margaret raised an eyebrow and Gable stammered, "I–well of course, I mean, maybe I'll think about if I want it, not...not maybe I'd compensate you. Of course I would pay you, we have gold and featherweave and transport and–" Gable stopped when they looked up again and saw Margaret's smirk. "Ah."

"The top of your game?"

"Listen I am very vulnerable right now it is a new thing I am trying and I hate it." 

"Well clearly you're not very practiced." 

Gable huffed, indignant, and settled now fully lying down on the hay. After a moment they looked up nervously and asked, "Could you, just for tonight I mean, and NOT like that, but we have some more gold left in the safe before we get the rest from the Bandit Queen, just," they looked away from Margaret, "would you stay here for a bit?" 

Margaret settled herself fully against the hay, stroked their hair and said, "Yes that would be perfectly fine, Gable." And Margaret held Gable until they were able to slip into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
